


Winchester

by destielismylovesong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Possessive Dean, Possessive Dean Winchester, domestiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielismylovesong/pseuds/destielismylovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean isn’t usually possessive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> On [Tumblr](http://destielismylovesong.tumblr.com/post/53239057579/for-phiaa-dean-isnt-usually-possessive-he)

Dean isn’t usually possessive. He knows that Castiel is his, that he fought hell and rebelled against heaven for Dean, and that he isn’t going anywhere. Which is why, when he catches himself imagining a scenario in which he strangles the man currently salivating over Castiel, Dean is mystified.

They’re standing in line at the DMV, a damn long line that Dean had argued against, stating logically that he and Sam could easily procure a license for Cas without the three-hour wait. When Castiel had refused, insisting that he wanted a legal license, wanted to learn how to deal with impatience the way humans do on a daily basis, Dean had then stated, with a very confident smirk on his face, that Castiel didn’t even have a last name, so what did he think of that.

“Winchester,” Castiel had said, giving Dean a strange look, as if he’d really,  _honestly_  thought that Dean was smarter than this.

That morning was the first time Dean had kissed Castiel.

He’d been burning to do it ever since the fallen angel had shown up on their doorstep, tired and lost, but determined to put himself back together. Dean had held back, knowing that what Castiel needed was space and time to heal, to learn the intricacies of humanity without the added complication of desire and sex.

A resolution that had been shot to hell about a month later when Castiel, standing in the middle of the kitchen in the bunker, wearing Dean’s robe and absently drinking from Dean’s coffee cup, had so very simply stated that he was taking on Dean’s last name. Even knowing that it was really the only logical conclusion, that Dean and Sam were the only humans Castiel knew, Dean had walked towards Castiel, very deliberately taking the cup from his hand and putting it on the counter, and slammed him lightly up against the pantry door.

“Winchester,” Dean had repeated, his lips only a few inches away from Castiel’s. The fallen angel’s heart was beating quickly, and Dean pressed his palm to Castiel’s chest, aching to feel his humanity.

“Winchester,” Castiel had said, his lips curving up in a quiet smile that said he knew Dean Winchester in ways that no one else ever would. Dean had groaned and lowered his head, meeting Castiel’s lips in a fleeting touch.

“Is this okay?” he’d whispered, his eyes closed and his grip on Castiel’s arms tightening when Cas had inhaled shakily. “Cas, I could stop, if you-“

“No,” Castiel had cut him off, lifting his lips to Dean’s. “Please, don’t.”

That morning was also the first time Dean Winchester had fucked Castiel.

He should’ve known, Dean thinks absently now, he should’ve known that he was the type to make his mark, his claim, publicly. He wonders for a brief moment if Castiel knows, and then rejects the thought as unimportant. Either way, Castiel is going to find out right about now.

Dean wraps his arm around Castiel’s waist, pulling him in close to his side. Castiel looks up at him, surprised, and opens his mouth to ask Dean if everything is okay.

He doesn’t get the chance. Dean’s lips clamp down on his, his tongue slipping past the surprised O of Castiel’s mouth. Dean takes no mind of the people around them, and the kiss is hot and dirty, a public fuck if there ever was one. Castiel grips Dean’s arm, struggling to remain upright as he’s swamped with desire.

When Dean finally pulls back, licking at Castiel’s lips in a final sweep, Castiel stares at him, eyes lidded with pure sex.

“Winchester,” Dean says to explain himself. From the corner of his eye, Castiel sees the cause of the display scowl, annoyance in his features.

Castiel looks back to dean and leans up, kissing him lightly. “Winchester,” he agrees.


End file.
